One of the few ways I know of... to care for something... is personal taste. One of the ways I know to care for something is to write about it. Constantly. Even if you hate it. The case of the Handsmaid's Tale was at first I found it almost unreadable in it's narrative leaps. I don't know what kept me going but it turned out to be the sleeper hit of the Dystopian Writing class. Maybe the voice became so vivid in scenes that taken from a Victorian novel. The Colonel (?) talking about why women deign to dress differently every day: To trick the man into thinking I am a different woman.

With a smile I'm opening this window into personal taste. Either, "I can relate" or "that is acceptable" and somewhere in between. To trick the brain into thinking I am a different person. Externally it sounds dishonest. Disingenuous. How do you map honesty onto maturity?